<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I'd Eat You Last by Oriana1990</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29594292">I'd Eat You Last</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oriana1990/pseuds/Oriana1990'>Oriana1990</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Dean's not as smooth as he thinks he is, Fluff, Gratuitous use of Zoom, M/M, Profound Bond Gift Exchange (Supernatural), School Reunion, Trans Charlie Bradbury, Valentine's Day, idiots to lovers, omg they were roommates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:28:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29594292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oriana1990/pseuds/Oriana1990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Was that a bad ‘oh’ or a good ‘oh’?  What does ‘oh’ even mean?</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“What is it?”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“It’s...it’s a card.”</i></p><p> </p><p>In which Dean is an idiot, Charlie is done with everybody, and all's well that ends well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'd Eat You Last</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_more_offbeat_anthem/gifts">one_more_offbeat_anthem</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A gift for the super lovely <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_more_offbeat_anthem/pseuds/one_more_offbeat_anthem">Sloshnozzle</a> as part of the PB 'Reunion' gift exchange.  I really hope you like it!</p><p>Thank you so much to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish">sharkfish</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/zahlibeth">zahlibeth</a>, and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePornFairy/pseuds/ThePornFairy">Alee</a> for extensive cheerleading and beta-ing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You don’t have to be some kind of party animal to agree that lockdown fucking sucks.  Granted, chronic staying-home sucks less than catching the ‘rona and ending up with a medical bill that would make Jeff Bezos wince, but it’s still not in Dean’s Top Ten Ways To Spend A Year.</p><p>And shit, it really has been nearly a year now.  Almost a year since work said <em>remember to take your laptops home each evening just in case we suddenly have to work from home for a couple of weeks</em>.  Ten whole friggin’ months -- and counting -- of hand sanitiser and masks and basically not leaving the apartment except for increasingly twitchy grocery runs.</p><p>Dean would have to confess, though, that he’s surprised at just how hard Cas is taking the whole situation.  His roommate has always been a homebody -- the introverted one of their friendship group.  He likes his own company, and has a downright enviable ability to occupy himself for hours.  But apparently being trapped by a global health crisis doesn’t float his boat any more than it does for anyone else.  Dude is <em>this close</em> to literally climbing the walls.</p><p>Christmas had been the worst.  Not that any of 2020 was going to end up in a lifetime highlights reel, but the last-minute tightening of restrictions had put an abrupt end to any tentative plans for the holidays.  Sure, Cas may not have spoken to a lot of his family for years now, and he might complain about Gabriel’s utter lack of boundaries and constant need for chaos and sucrose, but at least it would have been a change of scenery.  A glimpse of normality in this extremely weird year.</p><p>No, wait -- New Year’s Eve had been the worst.  Definitely the worst.  Just as Dean had suspected, the suggestion of having a small party (just them, of course -- they’re not plague rats) and ordering in food and drink had been met with a lukewarm reception, to put it generously.  It was fine, though.  Dean could understand it.  He wouldn’t want to be reminded that his only option for socialising for the foreseeable future was himself, either.  Still hurt a little.  Anyhow, in the end they’d both just trudged off to their own rooms after a quiet dinner, and gone to bed as normal.</p><p>There are worse people to be stuck with during a lockdown.  They’ve always got along pretty well as roommates, right from the day they both moved into the same college dorm years ago.  Cas hadn’t even let Dean get in a “hello” before launching into some kind of thesis about the importance of bees to the local environment, and how Dean’s shower gel <em>definitely</em> didn’t comply with the relevant ecological standards, and that Cas hoped he had plans to replace it soon, and--</p><p>Yeah, so maybe Dean had fallen in love with the scruffy dork immediately.  But there was no need for <em>Cas</em> to know that.  They were the best of friends, and Dean wouldn’t ever risk losing that.  Cas was the only person he needed around him when things were tough.  Obviously that wasn’t the same for Cas, though.  Which is fine.  His listlessness and general irritability had only increased over the last few weeks, and Dean knew he just needed something Not-Dean to take his mind off things.  Not to blow his own trumpet, but Dean’s definitely an ideas guy.  He’s pretty creative when he wants to be, but it still took him longer than he’d care to admit to come up with a plan that would put a smile back on Cas’s face, and remind him there were other people out there than his crappy roommate.</p><p>The first one arrives on January 2nd.  It’s a Saturday, so usually Cas would be out at some do-gooder volunteer gig or other.  Yes, even though it’s pouring rain and colder than a witch’s tit.  But it’s lockdown, so they’re...at home.  Flicking through TV channels looking for something they can yell at that they haven’t already watched five times since March.</p><p>“There’s a <em>Fixer Upper</em> on in five?”</p><p>“As long as it’s not the weird eighties one again, sure.  Or any of season 2.”</p><p>“Roger that.”</p><p>There’s a thud of something hitting the doormat, and Dean makes himself not react, fixing his eyes on the TV.  <em>Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious… </em></p><p>“Was that the mail?”</p><p>Dean grunts.  “Guess so.”</p><p>“Are you gonna go get it?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, sure.”</p><p>Dean hauls himself out of the couch, trying to remember how to act normal.  Does he usually pick up letters as soon as they come through the door?  Is he walking casually enough?  He can feel Cas giving him a funny look as he bends to collect the mail, and takes a deep breath.  It’s no big deal.  Chill out.</p><p>“‘S got your name on it.”</p><p>He slumps back down onto the couch and passes the sleek white envelope to Cas, who frowns slightly.  “Late holiday card?”</p><p>“Something like that, I guess.”</p><p>The puzzled squint remains as Cas tears open the envelope to reveal a card inside.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Dean determinedly keeps his eyes fixed on the TV, only half-watching Chip pulling down siding and getting half of it in his face.  He resolutely does not watch Cas’s expression as he examines the card.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Was that a bad ‘oh’ or a good ‘oh’?  What does ‘oh’ even mean?</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“It’s...it’s a card.”</p><p>“Thanks Bill Nye, anything else?”</p><p>“It’s…”</p><p>Cas seems lost for words and just hands Dean the card to look at.  As if he doesn’t already know exactly what it says.  He dutifully goes through the motions of looking at the front, and then examining the printed inside that just says “Happy Saturday! Have a great day!”.  Jeez, it looks even more sterile in real life, given there’s no handwriting anywhere in it.  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.  It had seemed like a solid choice, as cards go -- technically in the ‘partner’ section rather than ‘friend’, but still with sufficient plausible deniability if Cas somehow guessed who’d sent it.  Maybe the ‘banging bod’ line was a little much, but the four out of five stars definitely saved it.  Probably.</p><p>“Huh, seems like you’ve got a friend.”</p><p>Cas still seems to have nothing to say, but when Dean risks a glance at his face, he lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.  That’s definitely a good expression.  A hint of a smile, even.  This little project can go solidly in the Moderate Success column.  He passes the card back to Cas, who runs his thumb over the raised design.  </p><p>Dean loves Cas’s hands.  Maybe it’s a weird thing to say, but it’s true.  He has fucking shovel hands -- they’re huge -- but so gentle.  Yeah, Dean knows how that sounds, but seriously, have you seen them?  Cas is as often to be found petting the various mangy and manipulative strays around the neighbourhood as drafting technical drawings for work.  Whatever he’s doing, he always seems so sure and deliberate in his movements, and yet his hands seem soft - certainly softer than Dean’s after years of working on Baby.</p><p>“It’s a very sweet gesture.”</p><p>Dean grunts, unwilling to be drawn into any conversation in which he’d have to actually lie to Cas’s face.  Food.  Dinner is a reliable diversion.  Dean drags himself once more out of the couch and ignores the shabby-chic house dressing taking place on the screen.</p><p>“You up for burgers?”</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>-</p><p>It only takes a couple of days for Dean to start thinking that maybe he could send another card.  It had made one hell of an impact on Cas’s mood for the whole weekend, but even without a commute, the Monday blues are pretty hard to shake.  Come meeting-heavy Wednesday, Cas is thoroughly back in plague- and isolation-induced misery, and Dean can’t bear to see it.  He’s not great at being unable to fix something, and since his usual solution of panic-baking just serves to remind them both that they can’t share the results with friends and neighbours right now… yeah.  Mail it is.</p><p>It’s slightly less daunting this time round.  He knows that Cas liked the last one, so there’s less of a chance he’ll hate it.  Theoretically.  Anyway, he’s gonna do it.  It’s just a card, it doesn’t need to become a thing.</p><p>...Except, ok, it has totally turned into a thing now.  Maybe it had gotten a little addictive watching Cas’s stupid pretty face light up on a Saturday, hearing the little <em>whoosh</em> of paper as another envelope hits the floor.  The <em>Thank you for being so weird</em> card had elicited a laugh, and although Dean had worried it’d be a bit on the sappy side, the <em>You are amazing, remember that</em> card had provoked a soft smile that would be etched on Dean’s retinas for the rest of forever. </p><p>Fuck, he’s so screwed.</p><p>“No offence, Dean, but don’t you think that’s a bit middle school?”</p><p>Dean’s pulled from his recollections by Charlie’s sceptical face on his phone.  That’s not the reaction he’d expected.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I mean, you’re basically putting anonymous love notes in your crush’s locker between classes.  It’s cute...for a fourteen-year-old.  Couldn’t you just, I dunno, break the habit of a lifetime and use your words?”</p><p>Dean scowls.  “Charlie, it’s not about that.  I just want to make him happy.  He fucking hates being stuck here all the time.”</p><p>“Newsflash, dude, this isn’t anyone’s fave recreational activity.”</p><p>“I know, I know, but--” Dean flops back onto his bed, uncaring of the highly unflattering up-nose, double-chin shot Charlie now has on her screen as a result.  Whatever, she’s seen worse from him.  “You didn’t see him at Christmas.  <em>And</em>, you didn’t see his face when he got the first one.  It’s not the same for him as it is for me, he needs someone else to talk to other than me.”</p><p>“Excuse you, I object to that.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, present company excepted.  You’ll always be my queen.”</p><p>“Hm, good save.  You’ll be spared, for now.” </p><p>“But my point is, he doesn’t...you know.  He doesn’t feel the same as I do.”</p><p>Charlie scoffs and rolls her eyes.  “You know what I think about that.”</p><p>Dean sighs.  Charlie means well, but Dean knows he’s right about this, no matter how many times they have the same argument.  It’s no point trying to rehash it now, because she just never lets it go.</p><p>“Sooo, have you registered for the Re-zoom-ion?”</p><p>Dean groans.  “Stop trying to make Re-zoom-ion happen.  It’s not gonna happen.” </p><p>“No,” retorts Charlie, sticking her tongue out.</p><p>“Yeah I’ve signed up.  Figured ten years is long enough that most of us have forgotten why we stopped talking to each other, so a reunion should fix that.  What about you?”</p><p>“Of course.  As if I would miss the opportunity to confirm IRL what my magnificent hacker skillz have already told me.”</p><p>“You are a stalker and a criminal.”</p><p>“You are an emotionally-constipated wimp.”</p><p>“I’m hanging up on you.”</p><p>“Not if I--”</p><p>Charlie gets cut off as Dean swipes to end the call.  He’s not particularly bothered by what she’s said about Dean’s new habit.  It makes him happy, and more importantly, it seems to be working to make Cas happy.  He grabs his laptop, and opens up the tab showing the card that’s due to arrive tomorrow. </p><p>
  
</p><p>He’d dithered over this one a bit.  Not because of the zombie apocalypse thing -- that bit’s true -- but this is the first one where there’s…  well, the first one with a heart or anything like that on it.  That wasn’t why he’d got it, of course.  Yeah, it had been in the Valentine’s section of the website, but <em>Cas</em> didn’t have to know that.  It wasn’t like the card came with a free neon sign saying <em>THIS IS FROM YOUR IDIOT ROOMMATE WHO IS HEAD OVER HEELS FOR YOU</em>.  Not as far as Dean could tell from the website, anyway.  And if it did, they really should mention that kind of thing.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>The great news is that the card didn’t come with any free neon signs.</p><p>The even better news is that Cas definitely likes this card.</p><p>Not that Dean’s been keeping track or anything, but this is the first one that Cas has actually put up <em>on display</em> in the living room.  It’s a bit disconcerting that it’s just <em>there</em> all the time, but it’s totally worth it for all the times he catches Cas looking at it and smiling to himself.  Holy shit, Dean is so screwed.  The whole anonymous mail thing had seemed like a good idea at the time, and it’s having the intended effect on Cas, but it’s sure as hell not helping Dean with his little problem.</p><p>Maybe Dean’s drunk on nerves at this point, or maybe he’s just getting bolder in proportion to his levels of stir-crazy -- there has to be some reason why he thinks the next card is a good idea.  He almost cancels the order as soon as he’s made it, but fuck it.  He’ll show Charlie he’s no wimp.</p><p>This card is definitely much less friend-y and much more...more.  There’s something simultaneously exhilarating and totally fucking terrifying about sending this card, but as long as Cas never finds out who’s sending them, it’s not gonna be a problem.  Dean’s a mess all through Thursday and Friday, to the point that it takes him three hours on Friday evening to discover he’d put his cell in the fridge and left a pack of chicken thighs in his sock drawer.  What the fuck.</p><p>All in all, Saturday afternoon’s delivery kind of comes as a relief.  At least, until Cas actually opens the thing.</p><p>He’s...silent?  Totally silent. </p><p>Dean doesn’t like it.  Shit, what if he went too far this time?  The last thing he wants to do is make Cas uncomfortable.  He sneaks a glance at Cas over the top of his laptop, who is frowning a little at the card.  Is that confusion or is he pissed?</p><p>“What’s up?”</p><p>“I...don’t really know.”</p><p>Ok, so that’s better than ‘I am full of anger and hatred for whoever sent me this card’, but still a weird response.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Cas, still frowning, approaches the table and turns the card around to face Dean.  “Is this supposed to be a compliment?”</p><p>Dean gulps and makes a show of reading the printed words.</p><p>“Uh, yeah?  It says ‘you’re so hot, someone is probably using your pictures to catfish people’.  That seems pretty complimentary to me?”</p><p>This doesn’t seem to remove the confusion, and Cas’s frown deepens.  “I’m hot?”</p><p>Despite himself, Dean has to laugh at that.  “Well you’re not exactly painful to look at, buddy.”  </p><p>Cas huffs a self-deprecating laugh.  “You think everybody is attractive.”</p><p>This is not the direction Dean expected this whole exchange to go.  “What?  No, seriously.  You’re--”  Dean clears his throat.  “You’re, y’know, a good looking guy.”</p><p>Cas still looks less-than-ecstatic, for some reason; like being told you’re hot is some kind of terrible burden to bear.  But at least any confusion has been cleared up.  </p><p>“Thank you, Dean.”</p><p>With that, Cas shuffles into his room and shuts the door.  Something doesn’t seem right, but Dean just can’t put his finger on it.  Thankfully, he’s dragged out of the impending spiral by a facetime call.</p><p>“‘Sup, Your Grace?”</p><p>“I don’t think Queens get called Your Grace, do they?  I kind of like it though.  Anyway, stop distracting me.  Did you get the Zoom deets for the re-zoom-ion?”</p><p>“I’m not calling it that.”</p><p>“Whatever, did you get them?”</p><p>“Uh, lemme check… what are you getting so jumpy about anyway?  It’s still a week away, isn’t it?”</p><p>“You know I’m always super hype for people to witness my Extreme Glow-Up.”</p><p>Dean rolls his eyes, but can’t help but grin.  Watching Charlie don a butter-wouldn’t-melt face of pure innocence while a gawking idiot who hasn’t seen her in a decade tries to stammer their way through the usual “<em>weren’t you...did you...aren’t you…</em> ” questions about her gender <em>never</em> gets old.  </p><p>“You are the worst, and I love you.  Uh, yeah, I think I’ve got the invite...huh.  ‘Reunion Speed Dating’?  Are they just leaning into the Valentine’s weekend thing because of the date?”</p><p>“Maybe?  Or maybe they just had a single moment of good judgement and realized everyone in one Zoom room would be like a middle school dance with everyone standing around the edges and nobody interacting at all.”</p><p>“Oh god, that would be the worst.”</p><p>Charlie hums in agreement.  “Are you gonna bring Cas for moral support?”</p><p>“I dunno, I don’t want to bore him with a bunch of sucky people he doesn’t even know.  But it’s not like he has other plans, thanks ‘rona.  Depends if he’s pissed with me, I guess?  He’s been a bit funny today since the mail came.”</p><p>“<em>What?</em>  You’re not still sending him cringy love notes, are you?”</p><p>Dean’s eyes dart to Cas’s bedroom door, as if he might be summoned by the mere mention of Dean’s card habit.</p><p>“Will you keep it down?  They’re not cringy, and they’re not…they’re <em>not</em> love notes.”</p><p>Charlie doesn’t dignify this with a response beyond raising her eyebrows.</p><p>“Dean, you know I love you, but this is getting ridiculous.  And if you don’t tell him it’s you sending the cards, I will.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“Dean?  What are you doing?”</p><p>Dean stands back up from where he was crouched behind the TV, and cracks his back.  Ahhh, that was a good one.</p><p>“Got an external webcam for this re-zoom-ion thing.”  Fuck, Charlie’s worn him down.  “Just plugging it in so I can watch everyone’s poxy faces on the TV instead of cricking my neck over the laptop.” </p><p>“Good thinking.  Hey, do you know if the mail has come yet today?”</p><p>Dean looks away from Cas, and busies himself with the exact placement of the webcam on top of the TV.</p><p>“Uh, I dunno, it’s usually earlier than this, right?”</p><p>Cas deflates.  “Right.”</p><p>Goddammit.  Now Dean feels like garbage.  The tab’s still open on his laptop.  The cutesy <em>Bee Mine</em> card design that had made him feel all gooey, that had been undeniably and unapologetically a statement of romantic intention, and that he’d absolutely completely chickened out of at the last minute.  It’s the first Saturday all year that Cas won’t be getting an anonymous card to cheer him up.  Because Dean is an emotionally-constipated wimp.</p><p>He hates it when Charlie’s right.</p><p>“But hey, if you’re looking for entertainment, you could always join me?  If you want to, I mean.  No pressure.  There’s a reason I haven’t spoken to these morons since high school.”</p><p>Cas seems to have perked up a little.  Jeez, how bored does a guy have to be to want to go to his roommate’s high school reunion?</p><p>“Would that be alright?  I wouldn’t want to intrude.”</p><p>“Have I told you recently you’re an idiot?”</p><p>“Not in the last few days.”</p><p>“Well get over here, idiot, and help me figure out this bingo thing Charlie sent over.”</p><p> </p><p>- </p><p> </p><p><em>The host has assigned you to a new breakout room.</em> </p><p>Dean leans forward to grab the Fire stick thingy and clicks on OK to join the new room.  “I’m really not sure I’m into this Speed Dating-style format.  Who d’you reckon we’ve got this time?”</p><p>Cas hums thoughtfully, and squints at the paper on the coffee table.  “Well, we’ve ticked off ‘pyramid scheme’, ‘obsessed parents’, and ‘guy you don’t have any recollection of at all’ from the main bingo card.”</p><p>“And ‘nerd who didn’t meet their high school potential’, unless we can’t count her for both that and ‘pyramid scheme’”</p><p>“I’m sure there are no rules against it.  Plus, from the other list, we’ve taken shots for… someone who had a crush on you, someone <em>you</em> had a crush on--”</p><p>“Hey, I never said--”</p><p>“Please, you didn’t need to.”  Cas grins over at him and Dean’s brains fall out of his ears.  “I can read you like a book, Dean Winchester, and there’s no way you didn’t have a crush on that guy -- Ash, was it? -- when you were both scrawny kids.”</p><p>Dean feels himself flush; a combination of embarrassment at being so easily seen through, and dread that Cas maybe already knows about Dean’s feelings for <em>him</em>.  If he does, and he’s never brought it up, then he must not be interested.  Right?</p><p>“I wasn’t scrawny,” he mutters, folding his arms.</p><p>Cas snorts and turns back to the list, sweeping a few crumbs off one corner.</p><p>“Shots have also been taken for glow up, glow down, still living in the past… oh, and miscellaneous teacher who invited themselves along.  So, I figure our most likely contender for the next session is… either intimidating over-achiever, or that kid everyone always knew was gay and is now living their truth.”</p><p>Dean shrugs and they lean back into the couch, just as Charlie appears on the screen.  Dean and Cas look at each other, and immediately crack up.  Yep, that’s on the money.</p><p>“Wow, you two are already making me nauseous.” she greets them, beaming.  </p><p>“What are you looking so happy about?  I know it’s not the company of our beloved ex-classmates, because we’ve just spent the last couple hours with a bunch of them and they categorically suck ass.”</p><p>“Are you kidding, I’m just so happy that you two finally got your shit together!”</p><p>Dean feels his face drain of all color.  What?  “What?”</p><p>Charlie falters, looking bemused.  “I mean… everyone’s been talking about Dean and his cute boyfriend… is there something I’ve missed?”</p><p>Dean looks at Cas, who is already looking back at him, wide-eyed.  Shit, this wasn’t supposed to be how Cas found out.  And now he’s gonna be weird about it.  <em>Fuck</em>.  Dean shifts further over to his side of the couch, away from Cas’s too-tempting warmth.  </p><p>“I don’t-- what--”</p><p>“Oh, my god.  You’re both idiots and you deserve each other.”</p><p>With that, Charlie logs off and leaves the break-out room otherwise empty.  Dean springs up from the couch and snaps the laptop shut.</p><p>“Well, how about that, that was…” Dean isn’t sure where he’s going with this, but he just keeps moving.  Unplug the Fire stick, unplug the webcam, try not to trip over the cables--</p><p>“Dean.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I told you these people were morons, it doesn’t mean anything, and you know what Charlie’s like--”</p><p>“<em>Dean.</em>”</p><p>Dean backs towards his room, trying not to drop any of the various tech devices.  “Hey, thanks for joining me bud, but you know what, I’m actually getting a bit of a headache, so I’m gonna call it a night.  So, night!”</p><p>He kicks his door shut, rather harder than necessary, and slumps down on the other side.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Sunday morning.  It’s actually Valentine’s Day.  And Dean’s been hiding in his room like a total coward since he retreated to his room last night.  He’s not mad at Charlie like he expected to be, just pissed at himself that he’s too much of a fool to tell his best friend how he really feels about him, and apparently not enough of an adult to have a mature conversation with aforementioned best friend about those feelings now that the cat’s out of the bag.</p><p>The smell of bacon wafts from the kitchen, and Dean’s stomach growls.  He’ll give it another half hour or so, just until Cas has finished, then he’ll risk going out.  No point making things any more awkward than they need to be. </p><p>As he wallows in his entirely self-induced misery, there’s a soft knock on his bedroom door, and an envelope slides under it.  Dean scowls.  What?  Is Cas gonna yell at him via snail mail?  Is this just to tell him he’s moving out to live with someone more functional and well-adjusted?</p><p>He untangles himself from his sheets, and grabs the envelope.  There’s nothing on the outside.  Stomach in knots, Dean reluctantly opens it up to see the damage.</p><p>His heart stops as he sees the front of the card, then turns to lead as he reads further.</p><p>
  
</p><p>With a wave of hurt and anger, Dean wrenches open his door to see Cas, wringing his hands and looking a bit spooked.  He clearly hadn’t expected any immediate confrontation.  Well, tough shit.  </p><p>“The fuck is this?”</p><p>“I… what?”</p><p>“I said,”  Dean takes a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper.  He didn’t think Cas would be this cruel, but he can’t blame him for not returning his feelings.  “What the fuck is this?  I know Charlie dropped me in it, but you don’t have to be a dick about it.”</p><p>Cas’s anxious expression turns into a glare.</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>“The card!  I’m not stupid, you obviously know about… about how I feel about you.”  Dean tries not to sound like a twelve year old as he says it, but he’s not sure it works.</p><p>“Is there something wrong with it?  Do you know how hard it is to find any Valentine’s cards that are still in stock and have Prime same-day delivery?”</p><p>Dean rubs his forehead with his free hand.  Nothing is making any sense.  “Why are you giving me this?”</p><p>“I thought you’d find it funny.  And--”  Cas audibly swallows.  “And getting a funny one also gave me an out, in case I had...misunderstood.”</p><p>This really isn’t getting any fucking clearer, and Cas is just standing there with his stupid earnest face and his stupid blue eyes.  “Dude, I’m gonna need you to put this in words of one syllable for my dumb ass.”</p><p>“Well, I was a little surprised by your reaction to Charlie’s misunderstanding on the Zoom call, but then it started to make sense, after all you’ve been sending me those sweet cards all year, and--”</p><p>“Wait.  Hold up.  You know I sent those?”</p><p>Cas looks blankly at him.  “Was I not supposed to?”</p><p>It’s even worse than Dean thought.  He grits his teeth.  “Did Charlie tell you?”</p><p>“What?  No, nobody told me.  But Dean, who else would they have been from?”</p><p>Dean is lost for words.  That...hadn’t been an angle he’d considered.</p><p>“Ok, so...you knew?  The whole time?”  Cas is staring at him like he’s got two heads.  Which isn’t that unreasonable, if Dean’s honest with himself.  “And...you were okay with that?”</p><p>“Dean.  Those cards were the highlight of my week.  I know I haven’t been particularly good company over the last few months, so it made sense to me that you might choose a medium of communication that didn’t involve too much actual interaction.”</p><p>Dean’s heart breaks a little.  “Damn, Cas, I only wanted to cheer you up.”</p><p>Cas looks up sharply.  “<em>Only</em> wanted to cheer me up?”</p><p>“No, wait, that came out wrong.”  Dean tries to organize his thoughts, but it’s like herding cats.  Drunk cats.  In the dark.  “I like you, Cas.  A lot.  And I wanted you to be happy.”</p><p>Cas gives him a shy smile.  “So...does that mean you’ll be my valentine?”</p><p>“I dunno, will you get me a less shit card?”</p><p>“Don’t push your luck.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight, valentine.”</p><p>“Shut up, it hasn’t been Valentine’s for nearly a whole week.”</p><p>And it really has been a hell of a week.  Once Dean’s ears have stopped ringing from the monumental <em>I told you so</em> he’d gotten from Charlie, everything’s just...normal.  Granted, there’s not a whole lot that can change while you’re both trapped indoors together for the foreseeable future, but also they’ve always been close.  Always had this easy companionship; sitting shoulder-to-shoulder as they work during the day, and curling up together on the couch at the end of the day to bicker over who has more of a death wish: Chip Gainess or Tad from <em>Good Bones</em>.  All that’s changed is that now Dean doesn’t have to resist the urge to kiss Cas when he’s on one of his rants, or squeeze his hand after a frustrating meeting.  And holy crap, it’s awesome.</p><p>Cas grins widely at him, and Dean can’t help but press a kiss to his temple before shoving playfully at his hip.</p><p>“Go to bed, you dork.”</p><p>Dean watches Cas close his bedroom door, then follows suit and retreats into his own room, face hurting from smiling.  </p><p>Before he goes to sleep, he looks over at the card on his nightstand.</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoyed this fic?  Come and join me on the <a href="https://discord.gg/profoundbond">PB Discord server</a>!  I get a virtual cookie and you get to be part of an amazing community of nearly 2k absolutely delightful Destiel fans.</p><p>Hated this fic?  Come and tell me all about it on the <a href="https://discord.gg/profoundbond">PB Discord server</a>!  I promise I won't bite.</p><p>My sincerest apologies for the """art""", but some things just have to be done.  No Ragrets.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>